In the meantime, the silence of Lent should help us sort through some things, spiritual and material. I feel as if souls are released from purgatory every time this piece is played on this organ – and it doesn’t sound quite so thrilling on any organ but ours. He played the last few pages of the piece for me while I turned pages for him. It is one of my favorite pieces, Choral-Improvisation sur le “Victimae paschali” by Charles Tournemire, reconstructed by Maurice Duruflé. Yesterday while I was at my desk, I heard Robert McCormick practicing the postlude for the Easter Vigil. I know that for me this practice like no other reminds me of the journey Christ made to his death and resurrection, the journey we have shared going to the font. There is a lot of silence during Mass and Evensong. I believe it is one of the many practices Anglo-catholics have adopted from contemporary Roman Catholic usage (a usage that I suspect in this case reflects a more ancient pattern of worship). The suppression of organ and instrumental music during Lent except to support hymn singing (our practice) is not mentioned in the Prayer Book or the Hymnal as far as I know. For me, more than anything else the absence of music has come to be the primary language of Lent. Again, it’s not that Lent is unobserved here on Ash Wednesday! But one is too preoccupied to notice.

For me, the language of Lent really kicks in on the First Sunday in Lent. It makes the day unique in its spirituality. There is an energy here in the city bound up with the desire of people to receive the imposition of ashes.

Ash Wednesday is the first day of Lent but it doesn’t feel that way to me.

Palmer imposition of ashes services